


Jingle Jingle Jangle

by Wind_Writes



Series: Geralt & Yennefer’s 12 Days of Ficmas [6]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Christmas Smut, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Grumpy Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Idiots in Love, Kitchen Sex, Smut, Yennefer Has The Perfect Fix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:02:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28111338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wind_Writes/pseuds/Wind_Writes
Summary: Geralt says he hates Christmas and Yennefer shows up with bells on.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Geralt & Yennefer’s 12 Days of Ficmas [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035855
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	Jingle Jingle Jangle

**Author's Note:**

> Day 6 of 12: Santa’s Helper

Over it. Over the whole damn thing. No more trees, no more tinsel, no more wrapping paper, and for the love of god, no more Christmas music. The constant showing of the same five Christmas movies and the never ending TV commercials hinting at the perfect Christmas gift; the pressure to cook the perfect meal, the happy faces at a dozen Christmas parties and the pressure to always be cheerful were the straws that finally broke the camel’s back. Geralt simply could not take it anymore.

He’d done his best to keep up with the festive positivity everyone else was spewing, but he found himself faltering the more others shoved holiday cheer his way. Behind all the happy smiles and cheerful holiday cards, Geralt knew there was stress and family arguments to last a lifetime and the grinch in him couldn’t get behind drinking the kool aid.

Half dressed in a Santa costume at the kitchen table with a cold beer in his hand, Geralt glared at the sparkling tree that sat in the living room and then onto the one Yennefer had decorated outside. The cheery lights and ornaments glistening against the dark December sky only soured his mood more. Yennefer had stressed over the lights and the damn ornaments for days, afraid something wasn’t quite right, and Geralt had been ready to throw the tree out the door if it had meant that she’d stop fussing with the stupid thing.

“I hate this,” Geralt grumbled into his beer, the sound of passing carolers and jingling bells deepening the frown on his face.

Putting the finishing holiday touches on an appetizer tray, Yennefer glanced over her shoulder at the mumbling Santa behind her. He’d been sour most of the day and she’d just about had it with him. “What are you moaning about over there?”

“That I hate Christmas,” Geralt repeated louder, his gaze coming up to meet Yennefer’s.

Yennefer couldn’t help but chuckle at the picture Geralt painted. Dressed in nothing but a white t-shirt and a pair of costume Santa pants with suspenders, holding a beer and looking downright miserable, he looked like what she imagined an off the clock mall Santa would look like. Chin darkened with a five o’clock shadow and a deep rooted scowl on his face only made it better and it took all of Yennefer’s control not to burst out laughing.

If only she could take a picture.

Shaking her head, Yennefer carted the tray to the refrigerator and left a chaste kiss on top of his head as she returned to the counter, unbelieving of a single word he said. “You don’t hate Christmas.”

“The hell I don’t!” He argued, a dark glint settling in his amber gaze. “The gifts, the decorations, the music, the obligatory family time that makes us all want to drink. It’s all the worst and I hate it.”

To make his point, Geralt downed the last of his beer and went to the fridge for another one. In fact, the obligatory family time was exactly why he was dressed as Santa and drinking beer. Jaskier had, yet again, decided to throw an over the top holiday party where they were all expected to attend and, to top off the misery, he’d tapped Geralt to play Santa.

The witcher hadn’t been happy about any of it when he’d been approached weeks ago and he had grown more irritated with the entire situation the closer it got. All of that had led to where he was now, the beer and general hate for everything even slightly festive.

Yennefer shook her head as Geralt continued to mutter about Christmas, the decorations, and Jaskier’s party. “All right scrooge,” she sighed.

Settling herself against the counter, Yennefer watched the brooding man, her lower lip pulled between her teeth. She could feel the tension and irritation radiating off him and found it a bit disconcerting. If he wasn’t careful, he’d out hate the Grinch.

“You can’t tell me you enjoy all that,” Geralt countered, temper soothed from his earlier outburst but the steadfast scowl remained.

A mischievous twinkle danced in Yennefer’s violet gaze. “I find the music quite cheerey, thank you very much.”

Despite himself, Geralt could feel the corner of his lips quirk with a smile. “And the rest of it?”

“I mean-” Yennefer shrugged, unable to give him the answer she knew he wanted. “I enjoy a lot of that stuff.”

Sure, there were things about the holiday season that got on her last nerve, and she’d even been known to bitch about some of it here and there, but overall, she loved all the hoopla. It was as if December was the one time of year that always made her happy, despite the shit she knew was waiting just around the corner. For twenty five days, she could listen to stupid music, eat things she would deny herself for the rest of the year, bask in the scent of pine and cinnamon and let all her worries fade away in the piles of fluffy snow that littered the ground.

December was a break from the rest of her life and she intended to embrace every moment of it, even the annoying ones.

“Even the large family gatherings you bitch about for a week in advance?” He challenged.

Geralt would believe she loved the music, the decorations, the festive feel and even a fun party or two, but there was no way he would be convinced that she enjoyed hosting and cooking for a bunch of people. He had heard her complain and bitch one too many times to be fooled into that.

Yennefer chewed on her thumb nail. Geralt had caught her there and he knew it. There had to be something positive about having roughly a dozen people crammed into a house, talking over each other and doing little to help with food prep or clean up.

“At least that helps me work through my wine collection,” she finally admitted. It was a half assed positive point at best, but at least it was something.

“See, that, right there,” Geralt confirmed, hand slapping on the table for emphasis. “You have to drink to enjoy it.”

The look Geralt gave Yennefer over the barrel of his beer bottle dared her to argue with him.

Unwilling to rise to the bait, Yennefer rolled her eyes. “I think you’re being a little dramatic.”

She hadn’t the slightest idea what had set him off, but he’d been a thorn in her side for about it all and it was getting more bothersome by the minute. The more he grumbled and complained, the more irritated she got and if she wasn’t careful, she’d find herself on the same miserable bandwagon as him.

“No, I’m not,” he ground out.

Though Geralt wasn’t the most social of butterflies, he’d rarely had an issue with past holiday parties and get togethers, usually silently tagging along and rarely having much of an opinion about any of it. This sudden disdain for the festivities seemed to stem from something and Yennefer was willing to bet she knew the root cause of it all. “Is this because you have to dress up as Santa this year?”

“And that’s another thing!” He bellowed, “why does someone always have to dress up as Santa at Christmas parties? Who are we fooling?”

In Geralt’s mind, it seemed absolutely ridiculous that at a Christmas party hosted by and attended by adults, there even needed to be a Santa. It wasn’t as if there would be anyone attending that still believed in the man; why couldn’t they just put their secret Santa gifts on the table and let everyone pick out the one that was marked for them.

Yennefer sighed; there was only one way she was going to fix his crummy attitude. Lifting away from her spot, she shook back her raven hair and headed for the door, her words following her down the hallway and out of sight. “You’re the one who volunteered.”

“I did not.” Caught up all over again, Geralt stomped to the trash to toss out his empties and began to pace the length of the kitchen. “I got cornered and harangued within an inch of my life into saying yes. I’m being forced to be Santa against my will.”

Jaskier had badgered him endlessly for an entire night about being Santa this year, constantly bringing up how he had the hair to match and that it would be a great disappointment to their friendship if Geralt refused. Geralt had only agreed to shut the guy up; he’d asked everyone else to take his place, but they’d all refused and now he was stuck with it.

“Who wants a hostage Santa anyway. That doesn’t sound like a very jolly man to me,” he continued on. If Jaskier really wanted the perfect party, he’d get someone to play Santa who actually wanted to play Santa and not the guy he knew he could bother and harass into being Santa.

“Yen?” Realizing that he was ranting and raving to himself, Geralt spun around the kitchen in search of the sorceress. “Yen, where did you go?”

From down the hall, the ting of jingle bells sounded, their jingling and jangling growing louder before Yennefer appeared back in the doorway.

Geralt’s mouth went dry.

Clad in nothing but green lace and a green velvet Santa hat, Yennefer sauntered across the kitchen, like a cat stalking its prey. The bells on the end of her hat jingled, the ringing of them the only sound in the kitchen as she moved. Slowly, she approached Geralt and nudged him back till he was seated back into the kitchen chair he’d vacated not long ago to rant and pace around the kitchen.

“Maybe Santa’s helper can get rid of some of that holiday stress,” she cooed. Straddling his lap, Yennefer settled herself atop his thighs and ran her hands along the length of his shoulders and down his chest, fingering the velvet suspenders as she went. “After all, isn’t it my job to help the big man out?”

Automatically, Geralt’s hands settled on either side of her waist, his brain slow to process what Yennefer had said. The lace was smooth under his touch and the baggy Santa pants he wore were starting to grow tighter by the minute.

Muddling his way through the initial shock, Geralt trailed a calloused hand along Yennefer’s exposed thigh and leaned against the back of the chair to get a better look at the woman on top of him. “What did you have in mind?”

A seductive smile worked its way across Yennefer’s lips. Running her fingers beneath the suspenders, she easily slipped them off his shoulders as she left a trail of butterfly kisses along his jaw.

“Something that might-” Yennefer kissed her way from the hollow of his throat to his ear, her teeth nipping at the sensitive skin just below it before closing over his earlobe and tugging playfully. “Ease the tension.”

A low growl rumbled through Geralt and his grip on Yennefer’s thigh tightened. His breath hitched as her lips trailed back down his neck and to his own, her teeth nipping at them until he opened for her. The contact between them deepened as her hands trailed down his chest and reached for the hem of his shirt, the nimble fingers tugging the fabric up and their contact breaking for a heartbeat to pull the white shirt over his head.

Heat pooled between Yennefer’s thighs as Geralt met her advances, his hands trancing the design on the lace as they made their way up to free her breasts from the confines of the festive attire. She purred against his lips when he ran calloused palms against her bare skin, her nipples standing erect as he massaged the sensitive skin.

Yennefer arched her back and shifted herself forward, the dampness between her legs meeting the strained fabric that was nestled between his. Intent on following through on her promise, Yennefer rocked herself against him, enticing another throaty growl from the witcher; a desperate ache settled low in her stomach as she continued to move, her pulse skipping as Geralt dropped his hands back to her hips and watched her through hooded eyes, the desire he had for her mirrored in his amber gaze.

Yennefer trailed a lazy touch along the top of his pants, a smile spreading across her lips as his skin broke out in gooseflesh and muscles in his abdomen twitched. Slipping inside the waistband, Yennefer trailed a heated touch down the length of him and her grin only widened when his breath caught.

Desperate desire wound its way through Geralt, the need to be inside Yennefer primal and all consuming as her hand wrapped around him and stroked. Tension coiled in his stomach and it took all his self control not to lose himself in the moment.

“Yen,” he muttered between gritted teeth, his hold on her hips bruising.

Pleased that the tension Geralt was experiencing had nothing to do with the party they were supposed to be at, Yennefer shifted to free him from the confines of his bright red pants and slowly ground herself to him, heated flesh against heated flesh. Her own actions enticed a purr of pleasure past her lips and it took only a moment to settle herself on top of Geralt, the feel of him filling her bringing a moan of anticipation past her lips.

Geralt took a deep breath through his nose when Yennefer started to ride, her hips rising and falling with practiced ease and eagerly matched his pace to hers. Whatever irritation and frustrations he’d felt earlier melted away as the two of them moved together, the need for one another only growing as the jingling of sleigh bells rang above their breathless pants and muffled moans.

Gripping Geralt’s shoulders to steady herself as their pace quickened, Yennefer closed her eyes and lost herself in the movement of him beneath her, his steady pace bringing her to the edge before one final, deep thrust set her cascading over. Her senses tingled with completion and heat filled her as Geralt followed her soon after, the tremors of pleasure lulling their systems into contentment as he settled back against the chair, Yennefer unmoving, still astride him.

First to come back to herself, Yennefer nuzzled his neck, her lips leaving love bites where his pulse was still thready. A satisfying purr escaped her when Geralt ran his hand up her back, the feel of his touch on her still heated skin sent a pleasurable shiver through her system.

“How’s Santa feeling now,” she whispered into his neck, cheek resting against his broad shoulder and utterly content.

A deep chuckle vibrated in Geralt’s chest and despite himself, he couldn’t find a damn thing wrong. “Pretty jolly.”

Maybe the party wouldn’t be so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I am not normally much of a smut writer, but it was too tempting not to try with this prompt. Appreciate everyone that has shown these little pieces love, whether it be here or on Tumblr. It means a lot when they are not canon and simple fluff and in a fandom of this size. Stay healthy and be kind to yourselves!


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